Survive
by W.Kathy
Summary: Harry Potter, 'Boy-who-lived', just couldn't find a reason to continue living. Will a change in environment change his mind? Or will he succumb to his death on the island where he had been kidnapped to? AU.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: 'Harry Potter' and its characters do not belong to me, and this applies to every chapter of the fiction.

A/N: What the hell am I thinking starting another piece of fiction when I should be updating what I wrote? Seriously, I have no idea, but this plot just wouldn't leave my mind so I figured I'd better just get it out. Inspired by some of the survival stories that I have read, hope you like this new fic titled 'SURVIVE'.

For readers of my other fics, don't worry, I will still update them, especially the other piece of Harry Potter fic (crossover) 'The-Boy-who-crossed-over' that I'm currently rather enthused about, thanks to the wonderful reviews/favs/follows.

**Warning: Violence, abuse, angst, suicide, death**. AU, for obvious reasons. Oh, and there will be no magic.

Summary: Harry Potter, 'Boy-who-lived', just couldn't find a reason to continue living. Will a change in environment change his mind? Or will he succumb to his wishes in, 'The Island'?

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Chapter 1: The-Boy-Who-Did-Not-Want-to-Live

Huddling in the warmest corner of his cupboard, a green-eyed ten-year-old boy stared blankly into the darkness, a nightly activity in the household of number four, Privet Drive. He had finished his chores, gotten his meager meal – a slice of stale bread of water, and the usual beating for not performing up to his relatives' satisfaction.

Fortunately for him, it wasn't a heavy beating as Vernon Dursley, his uncle, was in a relatively good mood having clinched a big deal for the firm he worked in as a director. His wife, Petunia Dursley, was also pleased with the latest piece of juicy gossip she managed to successfully eavesdrop from the neighbors. Dudley, their eleven-year-old son, was away on a summer camp, a welcome reprieve for our protagonist, Harry Potter.

Dudley is not only similar to his father in appearances, but in his violent tendencies as well. The two male Dursleys are both large, obese really, with blond hair and blue eyes. In contrast, Petunia, though also blond, was thin. However, the smallest person in the house would be Harry, the black-haired boy who had the misfortune of being related to Petunia, who was the sister of his deceased mother, Lily Potter.

Harry Potter's parents, according to Petunia, both died in a car crash. Apparently he had miraculously survived, in fact he was the only on who did among the dozen who was involved in the huge traffic accident and thus dubbed by the media as 'The-Boy-Who-Lived'.

Nothing further was known of Harry's parents, as the Dursleys do not like talking about the Potters, and he was taught from young – _Don't ask questions –_ that was the first rule for a quiet life with the Dursleys. It had been nine years since he started _living_, if what he was doing could be called that, and Harry has learned quite a few useful things during this period.

He learned how to survive on the minimal that a child could eat and still function enough to do his chores – Petunia was especially ingenious in testing out the amount of food she could give to the boy and not end up killing him. He learned how to protect his vital areas during a beating so that he would not be grievously hurt. From a small-time ex-convict, who took pity on Harry, the boy learned how to pick locks and pockets. This skill was especially useful during the times when Petunia 'forgot' to feed him. It was also handy when he wanted something but obviously couldn't afford, as he had no pocket money from the Dursleys. He had amassed quite a small fortune of stolen money, books and other trinkets.

For a while after Harry was befriended the ex-convict, Thomas, the green-eyed boy was contented. Using the money he pick-pocketed, he had enough to eat, books and trinkets that kept him entertained. He could even heal his wounds better from medical supplies he procured. However, his happiness was short-lived as a police shot Thomas, when he and his group of accomplices attempted to rob the Surrey bank. He did not survive.

An investigation revealed that Thomas was seen talking to Harry, which lead to the police questioning the Dursleys. The beating that followed was one of the worst that the raven-haired boy ever experienced, and it took him three months to completely recover. It was during this three months that Harry learned that his tolerance for pain was higher than what he thought he had. It was also during this period when he was injured that he discovered that the medical knowledge he had gathered from books was really essential his recovery and subsequent survival.

The Dursleys pretty much left Harry alone during his recovery, as it was obvious he wouldn't be able to do any chores, as even walking was a difficulty. During the long confinement in the cupboard under the stairs, he was isolated, with thoughts about the meaning of life circling his mind like a vulture gliding in the air, waiting for their prey to die before feeding on its meat.

Why did Thomas have to die? Why did he have to continue living? What is the meaning to continue living like this everyday, being kept like a criminal in the cupboard and only let out to work like a slave under the tyranny of the Dursleys, subjected to beatings and verbal abuse to their whims? Is that the reason for his survival while his parents died? Is that all he have to live for?

After Harry recovered and was let out of the cupboard to do chores for his relatives, he took the time to sneak off to conduct some research. At night, using a small torchlight he procured at the local hardware store, he studied and planned at a feverish pace; cutting his sleep time to gather the answers he needed desperately. Yes, the abused ten-year-old had enough – he no longer want to continue with this pathetic existence, this pale imitation of so-called living.

Though young, Harry was not a stupid boy; in fact he was far more intelligent than his peers for his age. Sadly, for all his cleverness, he couldn't find an escape from his violent relatives – not from the corrupted local police who was easily bribed by Vernon whenever a kind bystander report his suspicions of the boy's abuse. Certainly not from the unsympathetic neighbors who had been brainwashed into believing the rumors – viciously spread by Petunia – that Harry Potter was a lying, good-for-nothing, ungrateful delinquent. Now that even his only friend and mentor Thomas had died, Harry no longer had a reason to live. There was no way out of this hell, to gain much-wished-for freedom other than death.

Deciding to die wasn't hard for the green-eyed pre-teen. The difficult part of selecting the method to accomplish this end. Although Harry had a high threshold for pain, he do not like it – thus he wish to die with the least amount of pain and as little fuss and mess as possible. It was surprisingly easy to research for methods of suicide, or ways to kill through the Internet in the newly opened Internet café that served both drinks and provided its patrons with Internet access on its computers.

It was during one of his online research that he discovered a website with black background and just a few large words.

DO YOU WISH TO DIE? WE CAN FULFILL YOUR WISH.

Curious, Harry clicked on the one and only link on the webpage. It brought him to another page asking one question –

ARE YOU SURE YOU WISH TO DIE?

Without any hesitation, Harry selected the onscreen button, 'Yes'.

YOUR WISH WILL BE GRANTED. PLEASE PROVIDE YOUR NAME AND ADDRESS.

Deftly, he typed in the necessary information and clicked on 'Next'.

THANK YOU. YOUR WISH HAS BEEN SUBMITTED. PLEASE RETURN HOME AND YOUR WISH WILL SOON BE FULFILLED. HAVE A NICE DAY.

There was nothing else on the screen except the same message, so he closed the page and left the café. It was time to return to the Dursleys before he was caught sneaking off anyway. Scoffing, the pre-teen thought that the whole thing was probably a hoax or a poorly thought-out prank, not knowing that his life was soon going to be changed completely.

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Next chapter: The Island.


	2. Chapter 2

**Warning: Violence, abuse, angst, suicide, death**. AU, for obvious reasons. Oh, and there will be no magic.

A/N: Words in _italic _are Harry's thoughts in POV.

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Chapter 2: The Island 

Harry Potter was dreaming. It was dark, then it turned really bright, and he could feel the warmth of a late summer day on his skin. It was silent for a while, then some unknown voices made their way to his sensitive ears. He struggled to clear the vestiges of sleep and finally opened his eyes.

The sun was shining, a bright cheerful yellow high in the blue skies, white fluffy clouds so low he could almost touch them and the rhythmic clashing of waves against the shore on the sandy beach. The air was clean and crisp, free of the usual smell of vehicle exhaust fumes that were evident on the roads in Surrey.

_Wh…why…how did I…get here? _

_A…a man…a man? That hair…and eyes…he looks similar to Thomas…_

With a shock, Harry sat up abruptly from the sand he had been lying on. His head was a little fuzzy…and he tried to recall what happened to bring him to this strange, new place. The last thing he could remember was going to sleep in his cupboard as usual…no wait…something happened…someone was at the door…there was a dark figure that came into his cupboard and sprayed something on his face, and that was the last thing he saw before he woke up.

What is this place? Why was he brought here? Suddenly, something echoed in his mind.

DO YOU WISH TO DIE? WE CAN FULFILL YOUR WISH.

It's that website! The one that he had submitted his name and address to…someone must have kidnapped him! But why? Was it really just so he could fulfill his wish? If that was the case, couldn't they just kill him and not go into all this trouble of kidnapping and transporting him to this place?

Beside Harry, the man who looked like Thomas was standing up from where he was sitting before. Upon further examination of his surroundings, Harry could see that he was on a beach with some old-looking, low-level buildings nearby. In the distance, he could see a forested mountain – it was nothing like the suburban little town of Surrey where he had previously resided.

There were also other people around, some sitting, some standing and a few walking towards a large noticeboard that was on the edge of the beach just in front of the collection of buildings.

Deciding to follow the man who looked like Thomas, that Harry had mentally coined 'Thomas no.2', they walked towards the noticeboard where quite a few people had gathered round. He took the chance to study Thomas no.2. The man, like Thomas, appeared to be in his late-twenties, with shoulder length sandy-brown hair and brown eyes. He was slim and wore a plain, short-sleeve black T-shirt and blue jeans. However, this man had a nose that seemed to have broken and healed improperly, which was different from Thomas. This stranger also had numerous scars on his arms that Thomas did not have.

Thomas no.2, as if sensing Harry's scrutiny, turned to glare at the boy who flinched and avoided the man's gaze. Putting his well-horned survival skills to use, he walked away nonchalantly from Thomas no.2 and headed directly to the noticeboard.

_I don't really care who this man is, even if he does resemble Thomas. I just need to know where this place is. The noticeboard should provide a clue to this location, I hope. _

Being the shortest and smallest in the group standing in front of the board, Harry took some time to maneuver to a position where he could finally read what was on it. The words were shocking.

EVERYONE ON THE ISLAND. YOU HAVE CHOSEN TO DIE AND THEREFORE YOU WERE PLACED ON THIS ISLAND. YOU ARE MARKED AS DEAD IN YOUR COUNTRY, THEREFORE YOUR ID IN YOUR COUNTRY HAS BEEN TAKEN AWAY. THERE IS NO REASON TO PROTECT YOUR RIGHTS AS HUMAN BEINGS ANYMORE.

As if the first paragraph wasn't bad enough, there was a second part to this shocking message.

THERE IS A 5KM RADIUS AROUND THE ISLAND WHERE YOU HAVE ABSOLUTE FREEDOM. YOU CANNOT LEAVE THIS 5KM RADIUS. ANY ATTEMPTS TO DO SO WILL BE TREATED AS A VIOLATION OF TERRITORIAL WATERS AND WE WILL NOT GURRANTEE YOUR SAFETY. - FROM YOUR GOVERNMENT.

There were disbelieving murmurs and loud protestations.

"What the hell is this?!" A teenage boy shouted angrily.

"Are you kidding me? Rights? Violation of territorial waters…is this real?" A large, dull looking woman who was standing behind Harry questioned.

Next to the woman, a bespectacled man said, "This is real…this rumor has been on the internet, there's no mistaking it…the increased number of suicides has cost a fortune towards the country's medical department, and raised discontent among the citizens that the government was not doing a good job. So the officials decided to abandon these suicidal people as a respect to their free will to die."

"If I remember it correctly, they call this place – 'The Island'. Killing or dying, we can't save you anymore, so we took your ID's and threw you on this island – same as what's stated here!"

"What? Don't tell me…all the people here are..." Another man, one who appeared to be your run-of-the-mill office walker started to asked anxiously when he was interrupted by a loud female scream.

"Look up there!" Everyone looked up to see a woman jumping off the edge of a cliff, just as a man was falling down in the same direction. They landed with heavy thuds onto the concrete pavement.

"Hey! Over there…there too!" Turning around, the crowd was greeted by the sight of a man standing on the roof of a three-level building and jumping down.

Unfortunately for the suicidal man, the height was too low to kill him, and he wriggled his broken, bloody body around desperately, muttering "Kill…kill…me…already…"

Someone was screaming from the miserable, gross sight, a few were even vomiting but Harry, the ten-year-old boy, stood frozen, unable to move even an inch of his body. This was the first time he was seeing a person dying in front of him.

Surprisingly, the first thought that came to his mind was – _Luckily I didn't chose this method to die…it looks painful and messy. _

His subsequent thoughts were – _How long before this man succumbs to death? Why am I even thinking about this? Why am I still standing here looking at this dying man? It's useless…_

"WAIT! JUST WAIT NOW!" A shout broke through Harry's directionless ponderings.

"Calm down! Listen! Let's all calm down a bit!" A muscular young man, probably in his twenties with long red hair tied in a low pony-tail, continued speaking in a loud, commanding manner.

"Isn't it 'Absolute Freedom' as written here on the noticeboard? It doesn't matter when you will die – it's your freedom! Don't just hurry towards your death? Do you want to die like in those thriller movies? We are all going to do it…so let's just borrow time…"

"What the hell are you talking about?" Questions of a similar nature sounded from a few in the crowd.

"Anyhow, why don't we just leave this place first? If we see someone jumping down again it will just cause us to panic…that and…I spoke out too loud so I'm getting dehydrated. In this summer heat, I should get something to drink…" Swiping off the perspiration on his forehead, the ginger head began to walk away from the corpses.

Harry felt a hand on his shoulder, as the outspoken man turned his attention away from the dead he had been staring at again.

"Hey boy, don't look at it anymore, it won't change. Let's go!"

Looking up, as the man was tall, much taller than Harry, he murmured a soft 'Thank you' to the blue-eyed man and followed the crowd leaving the area.

The green-eyed boy noticed that he seemed to be the youngest in the group, the other person closest to his age was probably the teenager walking in front of him. He appeared to be from a higher-class family, judging from the quality of his branded white polo shirt, crisp navy blue pants and shiny black leather shoes. His platinum blond hair, though tousled, was obviously previously gelled back to achieve a well groomed, polished look.

Another person who caught his attention was a young woman with bubblegam pink hair. It was probably dyed but Harry has never seen anyone with hair that color before. She was entering one of the buildings, as what some of the other people were doing. Curious, he followed discretely behind her.

The interior wasn't looking any better than its exterior – the building, what seemed like a warehouse of sorts but was now empty and full of dust with walls chipping and floorboards peeling.

People started gathering around the red-haired young man again, and they were reporting their findings – everything seemed to be shut down, there was nothing of interest or help.

As the sun rose higher in the sky, the heat went up and Harry was getting thirstier, even though he had only walked a short distance. It was apparent that he was not the only one feeling the same, as the crowd got restless and started questioning the man who had seemingly took charge.

"Hey! You're the one acting so big and brought us here, think of something quickly!"

"Yeah, what's the point of preventing us from suicide? What are we supposed to do now?"

_These adults are getting worked up for nothing. What's the point of asking the ginger-head these questions? If they have the energy to make a fuss, why not put in more effort to find what they want or do what they want? _

Ignoring the agitated voices, Harry pondered about what to do.

_Where can I find something to drink? And even if I have found something to quench my thirst, what's next? _

An excited shout caught his attention. "Hey, look there! It's a convenience store!"

Looking to his right, Harry could see a small building with a worn-looking, wooden signboard on the verge of falling off – 'Hufflepuff's Convenience Store'.

"Yeah! Definitely, there's will be something to drink there!" Everyone hurried towards the store and Harry did the same.

"AAAAAAAAAH!"

The inside of the store was a horror. Boxes were rummaged and overturned, shelves were empty, broken glasses and corpses that had long decomposed into skeletons littered the messy floor. The repulsive sight and rancid smell chased the people out of the store, some screaming in fright, some puking their guts out.

Even the previously confident red-haired man was horrified, murmuring, "We…so we aren't the first ones? What is actually happening?"

Looking inside the store from the open windows outside, Harry's mind went blank, and he doesn't why, but something repeats over and over, resounding in his brain…

_I don't want to die like this…and if I can't die…if I really can't die…then…the only thing left to do is to live._

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The group of people seemed to be at a lost at what to do next. They remained outside the store, some sitting, and some standing. Majority of them had the same kind of hopeless, tired look on their faces.

Harry, however, was not one to feel daunted so easily, at least not by his thirst for he had gone on a longer and harsher time under the Durleys before, without water nor food, and survived.

"Wait! What are you doing? Where are you guys going?" The red-haired man questioned the few that were walking away.

One of them turned around shortly to reply, "We are going back…that place seems to be the only place where we can kill ourselves."

"Hey, please! Don't go…don't go!"

"What's your problem? Do we need your permission to do this? We are free to do whatever we want here!" The small group left, while another few were walking towards the forested mountain.

"Hey, you guys! Where are you going?" Again, the red-haired man asked, though this time to a different crowd.

"We are going into the mountain. It's too hot here, so we would rather climb up the mountain, maybe there's a gushing stream…"

"Right…right!" Murmurs of agreement spread.

"I would still advise you not to go there." A loud, firm voice interrupted. It was a man in his thirties, with long black greasy hair, dark eyes and wearing an equally dark set of long sleeve shirt and pants. He continued in a matter-of-fact manner.

"Before you find any water, you'll lose your strength and you won't be able to get down the mountain. Also…as an amateur, trying to find water will be hard."

"Do you have experience then? Or a better idea?" The red-haired youth questioned.

"No, and although this may not be a great idea…if we consider the size of this island, there should be a river. How about we walk along the coast, it's broader so we could see the gulf of a river easily from a distance. From there, we can follow the river upstream until we find potable water."

"I see…". "You're right!". "Sounds easier than climbing a mountain…" Most of the people started agreeing with the black-haired man's idea.

Suddenly, a female voice cried out, "It's unnatural! Why are you so focused on the future? That's weird! This is not something people who are suicidal or attempted suicide would think about…you guys are being too unnatural!"

A few in the crowd started shouting out their thoughts, "Yeah! You're unnatural! You are one of us suicidal people, but then you prevented us from killing ourselves, and we brought us to this place…do you actually know something!?"

"I don't know anything…I…indeed, I had attempted suicide before, even more than once…but I can't die in this place! I don't want to die in this place! Think about it! How can you let other people decide, especially the heartless government who abandoned us to this place!"

"Yeah…I…I don't want to die…not here…not yet…I want to put a testament to my dead body and let those guys who compelled me feel regret and fear…otherwise my death will be meaningless…"

"Me too!" "Yeah!" "I won't die in this place!" It seemed that everyone had decided to put aside their suicidal thoughts away at the moment. After a short period of time, the voices stopped – everyone remained silent, trying to deal with their thirst, walking along the coast together.

Walking.

And walking.

Breathing heavily.

Then panting with tiredness.

It seemed that most of them are going to reach their limit – any moment now, people will start dropping due to dehydration.

"Ah!" An exclamation from the front had everyone running up to see what happened.

What greeted their sight gave them hope, as it was an estuary – a partly enclosed coastal body of water with one or more rivers flowing into it, and with a free connection to the open sea.

There's water…finally a source of water to quench the thirst of the group and hope, though small, rained lightly upon their heavy hearts.

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Chapter 3: The First Night.


	3. Chapter 3

Warning: Violence, abuse, angst, suicide, death. Non-explicit sex.

AU, for obvious reasons. Oh, and there will be no magic.

A/N: Words in _italic _are Harry's thoughts in POV.

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Chapter 3: The First Night 

By the time everyone reached the stream of drinkable water, the sun had already set. Surrounding the small stream was a forest with huge trees that must have there for decades, judging by their size. After drinking their fill from the stream, some took the chance to cool down by splashing some water on their bodies.

Harry drank as much as he could, and washed his face afterwards. Looking around him, he could see some of the men nearby asking the red-haired man – "What do we do now?"

It seemed that the previously and seemingly helpful man had finally lost his patience.

"Again with that! Give me a break! Why do I have to make all your decisions for you?"

Just as a fight was about to break out, the black-haired man once again came up with an idea in a smooth, low voice that soothed the crowd.

"Hunting and gathering…that's what we can do to survive on this island…we won't last long with only water. After ten days, if we do not consume food, we won't be able to move. To stay active, we need to find food, but to find food, we need to stay active."

A woman, the same one who had cried about how it was 'unnatural' to try and survive when they were all suicidal people, protested tearfully.

"No way! I can't live like this, this kind of primitive lifestyle! We don't even have a change of clothes…it's like becoming a dirty caveman in this kind of place…I can't do it!"

The red-haired man looked at the whining woman and said, "If you hate it, then quit. If you can't do it, if you don't want to live, that's your freedom!"

"Hey…how can you say that!"

"I'm sick of it! I'm sick of you people always forcing someone else to take your responsibilities! Can't you just deal with your own lives? I…I don't…I don't even know what to do with MY own life…"

The black-haired man agreed. "That's true. To quit or to live, that is your freedom and everything is your own personal responsibility. Those who want to survive, must cooperate together. But that is up to you, what you decide to do."

"Yeah…that's cool…thank you, you helped me out. What's your name? I'm William Weasley – you can call me Bill." The red-haired man, Bill, walk closer to the black haired man and they shook hands.

"Nice to meet you Bill, my name is Severus Snape."

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Eventually, the group found an abandoned school while climbing further up the stream, and they spent the night there. There were no lights due to the absence of electricity; the moon was bright enough to illuminate Harry's surroundings.

The green-eyed boy, laid on a corner of one of the classrooms, close to the door in case he needed to evacuate the building quickly for any sudden incidents. Years of living with violent relatives had induced a need for caution or some may say, paranoia, in Harry.

He couldn't fall asleep in this unfamiliar environment with other strangers occupying the same space nearby. Uncertain thoughts floated into his mind – he wondered if he can really live here, if he could manage to survive on this island. He had once read a fictional book about a man who was stranded on an island. Surviving alone in the wilderness was hard, and the protagonist spent many days adapting to the new place...would it be the same for him?

Harry had no delusions that any of the other adults, or even people closer to his age, would help him. Living with the Dursleys had taught him self-reliance, and people often turned a blind eye to those who needed aid. There was no one to help him when he was black and blue from beatings, there was no kind souls to offer him an escape from the hell he was in under the abuse of the Dursleys.

Not even Thomas saved him from his relatives. True, the man, his only friend, had taught him some really useful skills, but most of the time the ex-convict was up to his ears in criminal activities and wasn't in the position to rescue a kid from his abusive family. Now that his friend had died…

No, now is not the time to reminisce about the dead man. More importantly, how can survive here? The dead bodies in the convenience store…as the boy recalled the images, he came to the conclusion that they didn't die because of suicide. Will he end up like that man? Lying on the cold hard floor, dying and eventually turning into a pile of bones?

Voices from the corridor shook Harry out of his morbid thoughts.

Curious, and cautious, he tip-toed silently to the classroom's opened door. The moonlight shone through the windows into the corridor, showing Harry the sight of two men sitting on both sides of a young woman.

"We are amateurs! There's no way we can hunt and gather…right?" One of the man whispered while the other man agreed.

"I've had enough…if we don't die, we have to keep suffering." The woman cried softly, as the two man got closer to her.

"Let's not think about it anymore, okay? We are all going to die anyway…it's okay right?" The two men started to touch the woman all over, one of them taking off her clothes. Harry blushed and turned away from the sight.

Just before he walked away from the door, he heard the woman asked, "Can we die together? I'm scared…"

"Let's die, we can do it together, okay?" "I'll die with you too…" The low, male voices replied and the trio started moaning and groaning.

The red faced green-eyed boy moved swiftly away from the sounds – though he had never seen it, he knew what they were doing. He had read about it once when he 'borrowed' a fictional romance book before – not knowing what it was at that time and though surprised at the explicit sex scenes described in the book, he was curious enough to finish reading it.

In fact, he was so curious that he did some research on the Internet on the matter. What he discovered repulsed him – why would anyone want to do that? No matter how you look at it, it's just gross and utterly unhygienic, isn't it? (Obviously, puberty hasn't hit the ten-year-old yet…he'll be singing a different tune later as he grows older.)

Inside the classroom, two other men were having lustful thoughts towards an attractive young woman. Harry noticed the two approaching the sleeping female, and one of them grabbed her legs while the other held her arms above her head.

The woman, having woke up from the rough actions, started screaming for help. Even to a boy as young as Harry, it was obvious that this was a different scene from the one he saw in the corridor with also two men and a woman. This…this…Harry don't know what it was, but he knew it was wrong.

_What…what should I do? No…what can I do? I won't be able to overcome the two men and help the woman…_

As these thoughts wandered helplessly inside the green-eyed boy's mind, someone rushed towards the men, bashing their heads with a long, thick stick. It was William Weasley, or Bill, as he preferred to be called.

"You're damn loud…shut the hell up and go to sleep! It's going to be busy starting tomorrow."

The taller of the two men, who had stopped his groans of pain, protested quickly. "Why did the hell did you hit me? We are just doing what we want to do! You are the one who said we had the freedom and personal responsibilities to make our own decisions, weren't you?"

"Right. And I will beat you up to make you shut up. That's MY freedom and decision, right?"

The two stuttered uselessly before fleeing out of the classroom, agreeing to keep quiet and go to sleep as Bill 'suggested'. Harry was relieved that he wasn't forced to make a decision to attempt helping the woman despite the odds against him, or walking away from the assault knowing it was wrong.

He didn't know if Bill hadn't come, would he have eventually caved in to his survival instincts or stepped forward bravely to stop the wrongness that his gut was screaming out at him? These things he does not know.

The things he do know of are – the strength to do the things he want to do, strength to fight against these violent adults, and the will to stop them from committing these bad things, he don't have any of them. Nobody ever cared all that much about him, so why should he care about them?

Survive. He only needs to think about how to live, for he does not want to die on this island like how the others have. It was strange how his suicidal thoughts took a backseat in his mind when he was away from the Dursleys.

For once in his life, he felt free. Here, on this island, there was no Aunt Petunia to dictate how much he could eat or how many chores he have to complete. There was no Uncle Vernon to give him a beating everyday. And there most certainly wasn't any Dudley to 'hunt' him with his gang of bullies, chasing after him and beating him up afterwards when they caught up with him – though in recent years that had been getting rare as Harry had gained speed and cunningness in escaping.

As the youngest boy on the island fell into an uneasy sleep, his last conscious thought was – what would tomorrow bring?

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Next Chapter: Hunting and Gathering


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: Thanks to Darkskeleton for your review. Yeah, the suicide island was created for recidivist in the manga, but I'm not following exactly according to it so there are some changes here and there. As this fic expands it will deviate further away from the plot of Suicide Island.

In this island my characters were brought to, the main purpose was for dumping suicidal people there aka those who had entered their names into the webpage (as described in chapter one). Reason for using this island rather than any other place, is also something different…which will be revealed in later chapters.

Basically the government will do an investigation on the candidate's background before kidnapping him to the island. Harry's case was pretty special actually – he did not attempt suicide, he was just thinking about it and making plans to do so.

However, since the Dursleys' abusive actions were covered up by the corrupted police who took bribes from Vernon, there were no records/evidence that Harry was abused. The secret agents sent to do the investigation came to the conclusion that Harry was prone to self-harm based on the scars on his body (I know, real stupid of them) and even though he was young, the Dursleys gave the agents their permission to take Harry away. Hope this clarifies ^_^

**Warning: Violence, abuse, angst, suicide, death**. AU, for obvious reasons. Oh, and there will be no magic. But later on, you will see there's something else not quite normal about the island…

Words in _Italic_ are Harry's thoughts in POV

Words in (brackets) are A/N.

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Chapter 4: Hunting and Gathering 

Harry was awakened by the glare of the rising sun that shone upon his face. That, and something was crawling along his arms. He half-shook, half-swept off the termites off his body and walked out of the classroom that was full of sleeping people.

In the daylight, everything looks even bleaker. The building was old, so old that it seemed like it could fall apart if it was given one big, hard, shake. The glass on the windows were shattered, the color of the walls had faded so much that it was now a murky cross between moldy grey and dirty brown. The floor, at least, seemed to be in a decent condition. It appeared sturdy, though dirty.

In the corridor, Harry flinched from the sight of the woman, obviously dead from the way she was hanging off a noose of thick ropes around her broken neck, and one of the men who was with her lying lifeless beside her, blood pouring from open wounds on his wrists.

Not far away from the fresh corpses, was the other man sitting on top of the stairs, muttering senselessly to himself, shaking and crying. The young boy had enough of the stench of the dead, of the hysterical alive and wanted a breath of fresh air. Climbing up the chipped stairs carefully, he reached the rooftop and walked out into the sunlight. The cool, crisp morning air was refreshing – momentarily chasing away Harry's uncertainties and worries.

Alone on the rooftop, he relaxed and took in a deep, cleansing breath, lifting his face up to the clear blue skies. From this height, he could see most of the island, and noticed there was a smaller piece of land separated from the island in the distance.

The shape of the island drew out a giggle from the usually solemn boy. It looks like a croissant! Having lived most of his young life in the suburban town, this was the first time he was seeing a whole island in person. Not the boring, two-dimensional pictures from books or on the Internet…this was real…right in front of him.

A sense of excitement grew within the boy as his green eyes shone as bright as emeralds. Laughing out loud, he shouted happily – "I'm free! No more Dursleys! Free…I'm really free…" His laughter soon turned into sobs as all the tension that had been building up in his little body burst out.

It had finally sank into his mind that his life is his own now…he can make any decision he want without his relatives' restraints…he will be responsible only for himself, not for the cleanliness of the house on number 4 Privet Drive, not for the three Dursleys daily meals (he was the designated cook), and not for doing Dudley's homework…he is really, finally free from his abusive relatives…

For once in his life, his desire to live was so strong it was surging up, making his body tingle. Life had never seemed so bright and full of possibilities before, even on an island where the modern conveniences such as electricity, tap water and toilets were absent.

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The now smaller group, taking account the few that had committed suicide during the night, gathered in front the building as the sun rose higher in the sky. It was quickly decided and agreed that they should check out the smaller buildings surrounding the abandoned school before heading further out.

It's the second day since they have arrived on the island, and majority of them were finally strong enough to take some action. They split into two main groups, one to search through the buildings for anything they find useful, and the second group in charge of gathering food.

The search inside the buildings appeared fruitful as they gathered some supplies – a few large fishing nets that needed mending before they could be used, some old clothing, ropes, and other fishing supplies.

The second group was also successful in gathering large bunches of bananas off a cluster of fruit trees.

Severus spoke candidly to the group. "There should be more if we search hard enough. There were houses that had plants growing in the yard, not just at the farmhouses. If we could find trees with different fructifications periods, we would be able to get the fruit more steadily over different seasons."

Bill agreed immediately. "We can work with this. For now, bananas are enough, as they are a food know for a good source of vitamins such as potassium and magnesium. And it tastes yummy too!" Chewing off a bite of the fruit in his hand, Bill then swallowed and continues.

"So what should we do now?"

"I have a proposition. I would like to do some fishing." Severus suggested, then explained further.

"We should be able collect a decent amount of fish together. It will be impossible for this many people to eat otherwise. I want to cooperate with everyone here in this endeavor."

After some discussion, the women in the group decided to stay on shore, mending some of the old nets, while the men started to prepare for their fishing. They found slated wood inside a shed nearby and gathered the insulated boxes. The boxes will be used as floatation devices, attached to the bottom of a raft made from the wood.

A bespectacled man held a coil of ropes in his hands and asked, "How do we cut the rope?"

The few standing nearby started to look through their pockets, finding only a cellphone, wallets and other trinkets that were not useful at the moment.

A blonde-haired boy in expensive looking clothes who appeared to be close to Harry's age, stepped forward, holding up a switch-blade in his scared arms...it was evident that he was a 'Cutter', a person who attempts suicide or performs acts of cutting on his body using any blade or sharp objects.

"I…I have a knife…can we use it?"

"Yeah..yes! Okay cut the remains at the places where they are tied together. Thanks!" Bill gave an awkward smile as he replied.

Harry later learned that the owner of the switchblade was named 'Draco'. He gave no last name, not that it was important in this kind of environment.

The black-haired boy fingered a similar item in his pocket. One of the things Harry constantly kept with him was a switchblade…whenever the oppressive feeling came…when he needed some release from all the stress in his life, touching the blade gives him a small sense of relief – knowing he could end it anything with a stab or slash in a vital part on his body.

He silently stepped towards Draco, offering his assistance in cutting at the ropes. There was no harm in doing so; the quicker they get thing done, the quicker they can start fishing and get to eat something other than bananas.

Now, do not think that Harry is a picky eater – having spent a large part of his life being hungry or just being fed with substandard, meager meals, he was used to eating anything really. However, with the new taste of freedom come along the taste to eat a variety of things on the island. He was looking forward to eating fresh fish he caught himself. Moreover, from what he had read and seen on television about fishing, the activity seemed fun!

Draco made small talk as they worked together, cutting the ropes and tying pieces of slated wood together that would serve as a platform to hold the 'fish boxes' while out fishing in the sea.

"This…switchblade…is a useful thing, isn't it?" The soft-spoken blond-haired boy said.

"Yeah…it is…"

To Harry, the switchblade was essentially something used for killing. However, it can also be used for survival. It was ironic how something he initially wanted to use as means to end his life ended up being something useful, something to help him survive on this island. Things change all the time. He will have to adapt.

Not everyone was like Harry, unable to adapt to the island, unable to survive by cooperating with the others in preparation for fishing and gathering supplies, another member in the group hang himself off a tree in the schoolyard. Nobody could stop him, those who saw the man creeping off in the night to hang himself, didn't feel like they could stop him. Harry was one of them.

Without knowing why, he thought, '_this is wrong. But in the end, it is his decision, his alone and no one else.' _A cold feeling enveloped his heart as he glanced at the dead body in the morning light, even as determination not to end up the same way surged forth.

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The woman with bubblegum pink hair – Tonks – and Bill dived into the sea to do a quick survey. They found that it was too deep there for a herding, and also the quick tide, which would be an obstacle for the lesser swimmers. The pair proceeded to check out other areas in the water. Having gathered enough information, they reported their findings to the group.

"Here and here…there are a lot of fish there but the water is way too deep." Severus pointed at the spots with a stick, at the simplified map of the sea he had drawn.

"On the other hand, the right side is shallow but fish are scarce there. Though if we make use of the reef from over there we might be able to pull it off. Hmm…"

"What's the equipment status?" Bill asked.

"The diving shop is a gold mine – there's still plenty of useable stuff left, even life jackets." One of the men with a large mole on his nose replied. Looking at Bill who was still wearing his T-shirt, wet from swimming in the sea, the man suggested.

"Why don't you take off your top? It can't be comfortable and you are going to get sick if you keep wearing it…it's sea water right? You have to properly wash it in the river and hang it out to dry, or else it's going to be ruined."

"Ah…Yeah…I suppose so, but still…All right! You are right! It's gross to wear it anyhow, off with it!" Gasps of shock sounded out as Bill revealed his bare upper torso. It was ridden with scars all over.

"Ha…as I thought…it sure draws attention…"

"What…what the hell, so you are the jumper-type person?" Someone from the group asked awkwardly.

"Ah…yeah…sort of…"

That was a surprise to almost everyone. The usually cheerful Bill, full of vitality and energy made the people around him almost forgot he was one of them – a suicidal person. And it seems that his wounds were most severe among them.

"Let's get going. We have to transport the net to the beach over that hill." Severus broke through the uneasy silence. The group got the stuff ready and carried them as they walked silently together.

Just before they reached their destination, Bill spotted a youth sitting with his back against the wall of one of the abandoned buildings. He rushed forward and said, "Let's call out to him – we need a lot of people for herding the fish, the more the merrier!"

"Hey, you there, we are going to be casting fishing nets in a moment. Come on…join us…AH!" Upon closer look, Bill saw that he was talking to a dead body whose wrists were slit, and flies were even flying around the corpse.

"Shit!"

"Damn…again? Everyday we have to dig graves for them!" Someone from the group complained.

"It can't be helped…it has to be done. Let's clean this up." Bill urged the group as the rest reluctantly complied.

Harry had gradually grown numb and kind of used to seeing dead bodies of those who killed themselves – there was at least one everyday. The initial large group of over thirty has dropped to the current smaller one of twenty. As the days passed sort of in a peaceful manner, Harry noticed a few particular behaviors within the group.

Thomas no.2, no, that's not his name, he had introduced himself as Remus Lupin, was definitely not a fan of Severus Snape. The sandy-brown haired man goes out of his way to avoid Severus, while the black-haired man would simply ignore him. On the rare occasion their eyes met accidentally, the usually expressionless Severus would sneer at Remus before turning away, as if disgusted at the sight of the other man.

Another person who had similar avoidance behavior was Draco. The boy tends to stick with the men in the group, sometimes hanging out with Harry, but never with any of the females. A few times when the women tried talking to Draco, he jumped and skittered away like a frightened little rabbit.

On the opposite end were two cheerful and outgoing characters, namely Bill Weasley and Tonks, the natural born, charismatic leader and the girl who was a great swimmer and an even better fisher. Harry had no idea why they were even on this island – they certainly don't seem to be very suicidal. Then again, neither does he, and he had changed from someone rather determined to kill himself, to a person who now has a strong will to survive.

The most normal behavior Harry had seen was probably the woman staying close together in a small group – there weren't many of them to begin with, and it was probably a good idea to be together in this lawless, forsaken island.

Moreover, even in modern, normal society, the females tend to do things together in groups – an example being going to the toilet together. Harry never understood why they did that – did they have the same internal biological clock where they needed to relief themselves at the same time? Was there some sort of unspoken ritual performed only by the females for obscure reasons? It was certainly a mystery…

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"How is it? Is the net set?" Bill shouted across to Tonks who was on the other side of the large fishing net.

"It's set, is this place ok?"

"Looks about right…"

"Yeah, herding requires a lot of speed and coordination, by making a lot of noise, we are going to drive the fish in the direction we want them to go. And while one team herds the fish into the net that was placed in semi-circle using the raft, the other waits for a proper moment to close it." Severus explained.

With bamboo sticks, the team in charge of herding the fish began their job earnestly. Harry was one of them. He had never been so glad that school had mandatory swimming lessons he had to attend, before he was eventually forced to dropped out off due to his 'poor health constitution' as an excuse given by Petunia. Still, he managed to learn how to swim before he stopped attending school.

Besides being a relatively decent swimmer, Harry was excellent at holding his breath, which made staying underwater easier. He honed this skill during his Aunt's violent bouts of holding his head under the water in the bathtub, which was one of her favorite way to punish the boy for not completing his chores up to her expectations. Well, at least something useful came out of it, Harry thought wryly.

_Aunt Petunia would never know how much her actions helped me learn the survival skills that come in plenty handy now…_

It took a few tries before the group successfully herded a school of fish into the net – for once, everyone was feeling the same way – exhilarated at their catch, that their efforts were not in vain.

That night, they had a campfire on the beach, roasting the fish and eating them. Some of the whiny ones were complaining about the fish having no flavor to them, but Harry was just happy he's able to eat some fish – and ones he helped to catch too!

"This feels great!" Bill enthused, as he added some dry wood to the fire.

"Will we be all right with the fish that are left? What do you think?" Severus voiced out his concerns to the group.

"Well, we caught quite a lot and I think we'll be able to live off of them for a while." The ever-cheerful Bill replied.

"I wonder if we'll really be able to…" The short stocky man with a moustache, whom Harry later learned was called Filius Flitwick, said.

"It was quite some luck that we found those fishing nets, masks, fins…if we didn't have it, we wouldn't be able to catch anything." Tonks added from her position beside Filius.

"Fisherman's hut…net…masks…fins…swimsuits…banana trees…warm southern island…I think it's connected. To put it bluntly, it's a set up." Filius frowned as he shared his conclusions.

"Yeah…you may be right…if we didn't have them it would surely have been harder in the beginning…" The bubblegum pink haired female agreed.

"Yes. In fact, if it weren't for the equipment and the tropical fruit trees, most likely more than half od us wouldn't have survived till now…" Severus chipped in solemnly.

"Anyhow, why southern island? What's the government's purpose in this? In the first place, why make this…this island?" Someone questioned.

There was silence all round as everyone in the group were lost in their thoughts. Harry didn't particularly care why he was placed on this island – all he knew was that he had freedom now…and that was more important than wasting time thinking about the 'whys' that the others seemed to be concerned with.

Severus broke the heavy silence that had descended. "Even if we dwelled about it we won't get any answers…it's pointless. The only thing that would have been useful to know was that we were going to be sent here. Then we could take come stuff with us…"

"Hmm…salt…it would have been nice to have salt…"

"Yeah, we need that! I don't want to eat this tasteless fish every time!" The group started murmuring their agreement and about ways to obtain salt.

The voice of reason and suggestion, Severus, brought up his own opinion. "Well…having it taste good is important but we have to focus on how to preserve the fish. We won't be able to have a successful haul every time we go fishing. If we dried and store them, we will guarantee a more steady food supply."

"Couldn't we just boil the ocean water? Near my house there was a place that produced natural salt like that." One of the women, who were usually rather quiet, suggested.

Her idea was refuted, reason being that gasoline was used to fuel the process, something they do not have on the island.

"What about saltpans?" Filius said.

"We put sea water onto the vinyl sheet found in the fisherman's hut…powerful sunlight in this area is enough to cause extensive evaporation. As the water level decreases we just add more…gradually it will become dense and we'll receive brine."

"Ah, I get it! That way we'll get salt! Once it's brine we just have to boil it on fire huh? You're quite smart, aren't you?"

Filius' moustache wiggled as he smiled. Shortly, the discussion around the campfire continued on to other topics, such as the segregation of work. One team will work on saltpans, while the other continue searching the island. Harry volunteered to be in the search group. He wanted to find a bag or something that could hold the stuff he had found. And perhaps some clothes his size would be nice.

Just before the group dispersed, one of the women interrupted.

"Wait…wait a moment please! There was something I wanted to say before we all went to sleep…among us, there is a lot more men…if some here were to take advantage of this…to force us…especially at night…" She took a huge gulped of air and continued nervously.

"I won't be pointing out who they are…but there's no use…for further cooperation from us women…if you won't guarantee our safety!"

"Damn! There are still some bastards left huh…" Bill said with frustration. "What do you think?" He turned towards Severus.

His reply was a shock to everyone. "This kind of thing doesn't matter at all."

"What?" "Hey…you…" "That's horrible…how could you say that?" Discontented responses were heard from majority in the group.

Severus clarified coldly and calmly. "Individualistic desires that are unrelated to whether we live or die, this kind of thing does not matter. If you really don't like it then you should just stab them to death or something. We have no laws here you know?"

The woman who first brought up the matter shouted, "You! Do you really mean that?"

"Of course. If we make some rules, it would be essential to create a system that would enforce them. But we don't have the time or energy for that. Each person will have to settle their scores on their own."

Bill scratched his red hair in irritation. "Damn the smart types…what a pain…fine, if that's the case, then let me state it clearly! I won't forgive anyone that forces the women against their will! If you inform me of such offenses, I will make it my personal business to deal with it properly!"

The greasy black-haired man looked at Bill in disdain. "So you're going to be both the judge and executioner now, are you?"

"No, it's nothing as complicated as that…I'm just satisfying 'my individualistic desire' you see." The two males stared at each other while the rest remained quiet.

Suddenly, Harry noticed smoke coming up from a part of the island, it appeared to be in the direction of where the noticeboard was. He wasn't the only one to notice this.

"Hey! Look at that…it's smoke!" Tonks pointed out to the group.

"So…back there, there were also some survivors…I wonder how many of them are there…" Draco, who was sitting next to Harry, murmured softly.

For some reason, the thought of the other group that survived made Harry nervous. He wondered if the two groups will be meeting up soon…and whether any hostilities would arise…though young, he wasn't naïve enough to believe that everyone would simply get along well with one another on this island. Looks like he has to start getting prepared to be able to survive even on his own, away from the group.

The next morning, he woke up before anyone else and went to the river for a quick wash up and drink of fresh water. As he approach his destination, he saw a small herd of deer drinking from the river. They ran away quickly as soon as his presence was detected. When he got back to the usual gathering point, he told Draco about the deer, which was overheard by a few others standing nearby.

"Hmm…deers huh? Somehow, it's making me hungry for meat…" Bill commented, smacking his lips and grinning.

"Well, it would be nice to catch it…anyone has professional knowledge about how to catch a deer?" Severus threw the question out to the group. There were some murmurs but nobody stood forward.

Harry was probably the only one in the group with an extensive knowledge on hunting. Dudley had a keen interest in the sport a year ago and Vernon was more than happy to provide his precious son with books, videos, materials and even giving personal one-on-one lessons on the 'manly' activity.

However, the younger Dursley didn't remain interested in the subject for long, just like how he reacts with everything else. The materials were soon dumped in the corner of the attic, a place that Harry had to clean at least once a month. Taking the chance while cleaning the attic, the green-eyed boy absorbed all the reading materials like a sponge. Somehow, it was simply fascinating to Harry.

With Severus question about anyone having professional knowledge about how to catch a deer, Harry didn't answer for two reasons. One, he wasn't sure that whatever he had read about was considered 'professional', considering he had never even put a single piece of what he learned into practice (simply no chance to do that in the environment he grew up in).

Second, he still wasn't confident enough to speak up in a crowd. Used to sticking to the shadows and generally avoiding the attention of his abusive relatives, nosy neighbors and his 'targets' – people he pickpocketed from – Harry just couldn't bring himself to answer Severus' question.

Instead, the first chance he get, he is going to do some solo hunting practice in the mountains. For now, he will do as what the others in the group do, working together to ensure their immediate survival.

Since nobody in the group appeared to know how to hunt deers, they split into their 2 teams for the day – one to search for supplies in the buildings and the other getting salt from the seawater.

After having a banana for breakfast, the ration for everyone, Harry joined the search team. It was a fruitful search for the boy. He found an old brown bag, though worn-out, didn't have any holes and was fully functional. The best part was the sling bag seemed to be water repellent – something that would certainly be useful when it rains on the island.

Afterwards, he also gathered a few pairs of tops and pants that were about his size – though a little baggy on his small frame. Hopefully he will grow into it, as he turns eleven years old in a week. A pair of sandals that surprisingly fitted well on his feet was a rare find for Harry, and he whopped in joy when he first tried them on.

There were also other useful items Harry found and kept – some ropes, a sturdy wooden bat, a whet stone that sharpen blades, a plastic bottle to keep water in, two coils of snare wire, a small sewing kit that contain only black and white thread other than a few needles, a few short stubs of candles, a chipped magnifying glass and a lighter half-filled with butane.

In an abandoned pharmacy, he found some medicine – though they had already expired. Looking at the date on the packaging, Harry realized that it was dated back ten years…which means that others had inhabited the island before…at least ten years ago. Are they still on the island? If so, what happened to them and where are they now?

Shaking his head to stop dwelling on these questions that surely won't be answered at the moment, he proceeded to search more carefully inside the pharmacy.

There was an empty box labeled 'Antiseptic soap' in black marker ink. This reminded Harry that they need to get some soap to maintain hygiene, as cleanliness is an important factor in preventing infection and disease, especially in a survival situation here where there are no doctors or medicine readily available for the sick.

After almost half an hour later, Harry left the pharmacy with a few rolls of the cleanest looking bandages he could find. Should the need arise, he'll probably have to boil it in water before attempting to use any of it, just to be on the safe side.

At the end of the search and before joining the group, Harry went his secret hidden spot to keep most of the things he found especially useful to him. It was a tree hollow in one of the trees that were in the schoolyard. The tree hole was deep, so anything he put in couldn't be seen easily if one is just giving it a passing glance. For added security, he put a pile of dirt on top of his stuff to provide camouflage.

Then he hurried to join the others with the remaining loot as his 'contribution' to the group. For practical purposes, he kept the sling bag on him, and nobody protested, as it was a good collection tool for the boy's future searches. Moreover, none of the older ones wanted to harass the child over a thing as little as an old bag – it just wasn't a priority anyway.

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A few days passed where fishing were unsuccessful, and the food supply started shrinking rapidly. Many were getting restless, and some were slacking off in cooperating with the others in team-effort…in short, it was becoming a mess.

Harry wasn't much surprised by this. He thought this group of people were some of the rarer types he had met – most people wouldn't cooperate that easily, much less a diverse group like this where they had almost nothing in common other than being suicidal. Besides, for people who wanted to die, Harry thought that they had done an excellent job in surviving so far.

Having anticipated this situation was the reason why Harry kept some of the supplies hidden. If a fight should break out and people start becoming disorderly and taking whatever they can from the group, Harry would be at a disadvantage as he was the smallest in the group. Now, he at least has his private stash in the tree hollow. He will be able to survive alone.

In the midst of the growing restlessness, Harry found himself once again on the school's rooftop observing the routine of the deer herd and routes of their movements. He recorded his findings on a notebook he took from the school.

After doing that, at night when the rest are sleeping, he spends a portion of that time preparing some hunting tools, snares and traps, stuff that looked easy to make from the books he had read.

One of them was a 'Noosing Wand', or a pole that with a slip noose of wire at the small end. It was especially useful for capturing roosting birds or small animals. (A/N: Yay! Harry Potter gets his first wand, though it's not exactly a magical one…LOL)

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The tension built up and the next day, a fight broke out between two of the men that Harry wasn't familiar with. One of them was severely injured, with a broken, bloodied nose, swollen face, dislocated shoulder and bruises all over his body, probably with some internal injuries too.

Bill tried speaking to the man who had started the fight, but he was just wasting his breath. The aggressor retorted that there are no rules here – even if they wanted to fight to the death it's their business.

Useless…human beings can be so useless…animals fight for food, for territory, for survival. What do humans do? They can fight to the death for something as trivial as a man snoring too loud in the night…Harry simply couldn't understand the adults' behavior. His way of thinking seemed to be different from the people in his group.

His whole life, all he wanted to was to be free. Now that Harry has achieved this, well, sort of, his priority lies with the three basic – food, water, shelter. Well, first things first then. Hunting would provide an excellent source of food, if he were successful.

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A week later, fishing started being fruitful again, and tension eased as food became abundant. The women started preserving the unconsumed fishes by drying them and using salt. After the men completed their food procurement for the day, Bill and Draco took a bowl of fish soup to the man who was heavily injured in the fight.

Due to the unavailability of medicine, the man was taking a long time to recover, and was drifting in and out of consciousness from high fever. His wounds seemed to have gotten infected.

The man woke up to see Bill, Draco and the woman who was nursing him. He expressed his thoughts openly, about how he had wanted to escape, to seek salvation in death…but coming here…working together…the first time they caught fish…for the first time in his life he felt joyful.

The last words of the man before he died were – "I want to live! Don't…want to die…".

Harry heard about this from Draco who was crying as he related what happened. The green-eyed boy had mixed feelings. On one hand, dying on this island was a common occurrence, on the other, this was the first death the group encountered that happened due to a fight.

Harry thought, '_This could have happened to me anytime when I was getting beaten by the Dursleys, if they had gotten more selective in hitting my vital areas, or if I have had worse luck…' _Looking at the dead body before the group buried it; he could almost see his face on the corpse.

After they buried him, on his grave, the marker was blank – nobody knew his name. It was the first time the group cried and grieved over a dead person, maybe because they felt that the man was a comrade.

For Harry though, his tears had long since dried out in his younger years. Crying doesn't help with anything. In fact, crying usually make matters worse – he learned this the hard way. For some reason, the more he cried, the worse the beating was. No, for the ten-year-old, there were no tears in his eyes.

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July 31st came and passed without much change. Harry didn't tell anyone about his birthday; he had never celebrated it before anyway. The day was spent on doing the usual things – helping the group with food procurement in the morning, and fishing in the afternoon when the tide ebbed.

At night in an abandoned shed, Harry continued with his preparations to head up the mountains to hunt. On the day after his birthday, he was working on his tenth caveman throwing star when he heard footsteps heading towards the shed. He walked out to see Draco holding up a lighted torch.

"Hey Harry…lately you have been staying up quite late, haven't you?"

"Draco…"

"The adults are all getting worried about you…Bill asked me to find you…"

"Draco, tell them I'm okay. And that I will be leaving the group."

"What? Where are you going? Why?!"

"I don't know how to explain it, but don't worry, I will be ok…maybe we'll see each other again." Harry didn't want to reveal his plans. Trust is a rare commodity in Harry's heart, something he doesn't give out easily. However, this person was someone who had genuinely tried to befriend him…

"Don't die Harry! (Draco is thinking Harry is going off somewhere to kill himself or something here) Don't…don't…I'm not exactly in the position to ask that of you, huh?" Looking at the determined and stubborn look on Harry's face, Draco nodded.

"Fine…I won't ask about you are going to do…just try to come back after you have done what you needed to…"

"…"

"Draco, I'm heading up the mountain to hunt. Maybe I will be successful, maybe I won't – I don't know, as I haven't tried hunting before it will probably be hard. But I know that if I don't make the first step, nothing will change. I have to change…to survive on this island."

"Harry…I don't want you to go, really…I think I will feel lonely when you leave…but I know that I can't stop you…so…so…good luck! I will look forward to the day you return."

With that, the blond-haired boy ran off with teary eyes. Harry stood there until the back view of Draco disappeared from his sight into the darkness of the night.

He gathered up his stuff in the shed; most of what he needed was ready to be used. The remaining ones were just a few extra bits he could complete any other time. Walking to his hidden stash in the tree hollow, he transferred the items inside into his bag, which was bulging slightly.

For better or worse, he's on his own now.

HP/AND/THE/ISLAND/HP/AND/THE/ISLAND/HP/AND/THE/ISLAND

Next chapter: Alone.


End file.
